


Bound to Break

by tightropetwitter



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Crying, Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, I'm Sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-03-28 18:14:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13909488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tightropetwitter/pseuds/tightropetwitter
Summary: Maybe it was one second too long among the smoke, maybe it was one burn too many, maybe it was some kind of sick twist of fate, but whatever it was. He was gone.Phillip Carlyle was dead.





	1. Chapter One: Shock

**Author's Note:**

> You guys... I'm really sorry about this... But something in me said that this was an idea that needed to be explored...

Nurse Irene walked quietly into the dark room, only illuminated by the candle in her hand. She slowly arrived by Phillip’s bed, careful not to wake Anne. Nurse Irene set the candle down on the side table and turned to grab Phillip’s wrist to check his pulse.

To her shock his hand was cold. She pressed her fingers into his wrist, hoping to find a pulse, to her defeat she could find none. She rushed out of the room back out to the hall. A flight of stairs later she came to the first floor where she last recalled Dr.Moorse had been working.

Dr.Moorse was just leaving another patient’s room “Yes Irene?” he asked seeing the urgency on her face “I can’t find a pulse on Phillip Carlyle.” she said.

Dr.Moorse and Nurse Irene hurried up the stairs back to the second floor. Anne was still asleep, Nurse Irene’s heart broke for her. In the two days Anne had been at the hospital she’d seen clear signs of the love between them, she’d seen how Anne had looked at him, how she’d kiss his hands, touch his hair. Even as an outsider of their relationship, Nurse Irene could tell this would destroy her.

Dr.Moorse arrived at Phillip’s bedside. Dr.Moorse grabbed his wrist, when that yielded no result he pressed his fingers to Phillip’s neck, and once more felt nothing. He put on his stethoscope and pressed it to Phillip’s chest. He slowly stood up, placing the stethoscope back around his neck “No heartbeat.” he said dejectedly “It looks like it stopped about two hours ago. I’d put the time of death at around two-forty-five.”

Nurse Irene nodded. She looked up at the sleeping Anne next to Phillip, their fingers still intertwined. “That poor girl’s world is about to come crashing down around her and she doesn’t even know it yet.” she sighed “Do you want me to tell her?” asked Dr.Moorse. She shook her head “No, just be here for her questions.” she said

Nurse Irene walked around to the other side of the bed, trying to ready herself, this wasn’t something she was unfamiliar with but, it never got easier. She took one last breath before placing her hand on her shoulder “Anne.” she said trying to be brave “Anne.” she repeated

Anne slowly lifted her head, she saw Dr.Moorse standing by the bed, she remembered how this worked, he was here to check his vitals.

She lifted her legs off of the edge of the bed to sit. Once the sleep was clear from her eyes she looked up as Dr.Moorse just stood there. She turned to Nurse Irene confused, unsure of why Dr.Moorse did nothing “W-What’s going on?” she asked shakily “Anne, I’m sorry, but Phillip passed away last night. Anne shook her head “I’m sorry?” there was no way she had heard her correctly.

Dr.Moorse stepped forward “His heart stopped last night. Cause of death is most likely from the smoke leaching toxins into his body through his lungs into his bloodstream, aided by his weakened immune system caused by the burns.” he said. In his years of medicine he’d learned to be straight, he’d become almost numb to telling people their loved one’s were dead, the more detached from his cases the better. It was easier on everyone, nobody needed another sad presence as they grieved.

Anne stared through Dr.Moorse, the words he was saying just didn’t go through to her. She looked down at Phillip laying in the bed “No, h-he’s here. He’s right here.” she said squeezing his hand. Tears formed in her eyes as she watched the lack of motion in his chest.

Her heart felt like it might be next to stop. It felt like her chest was going to collapse, she felt sick, like her stomach was in her throat. Her body didn’t know what else to do, except cry.

She collapsed over Phillip, not ready to let him go. Nurse Irene looked up at Dr.Moorse “She needs someone she knows. Have someone to find Mr.Barnum, he’ll know how to help.” she said quietly.

Dr.Moorse found a young nurse cleaning on the first floor “Excuse me?” he asked stepping into the room, the nurse set aside her broom “Yes?” she responded “What’s your name?” Dr.Moorse asked walked over. The nurse cleared her throat “Rose, Rose Hixby.” she said a bit nervously “I need you to do me a favor. I need you to find a man for me, Mr.Barnum, the man from the circus. I need you to bring him here.”

Rose swallowed “Okay, what should I say if he asks why?” she asked clasping her hands “Tell him that Phillip Carlyle is dead, and Anne Wheeler needs a friend.” Dr.Moorse said. Rose nodded “Okay, I’ll go right away.”

Dr.Moorse updated Rose on the rest of the story and sent her off. Rose almost regretted saying yes as Dr.Moorse forgot one thing, Rose was a fairly new nurse, she’d never delivered news of death before. Se rehearsed the words in her head as she changed back into her street clothes and she didn’t stop until she reached Mr.Barnum’s door.

* * *

 

 

P.T. may be getting evicted, and his wife may have left him, but he still had a few days in his home to get whatever things the bank hadn’t repossessed together. Which he mostly had done but he was a little busy lately, he wandered through the now empty halls of his home with a bottle of whiskey in his hand, it was one less thing to pack. He tried to recall the better memories, maybe even where he went wrong, but all of that is sort of hard to do when you’ve had hard liquor for breakfast, and lunch.

Suddenly he heard a knock on the door that rattled through the first floor of the house. He made his way to the door. He pulled the heavy door open to see a tiny girl with strawberry blonde hair, standing in a pink dress.

P.T. raised an eyebrow “Can I help you?” he asked. The girl nodded “My name is Rose, I’m a nurse at the hospital.” she said “I was instructed to bring you, you’re needed.” P.T. shook his head “Why?”

This was the part Rose was dreading “Phillip Carlyle passed away.” he said. Her words instantly sobered him up, the glass bottle slipped from his hand and crashed on the stone steps of the entrance “What?!” he sputtered. P.T.’s emotions began to wrestle for attention as Rose repeated Dr.Moorse’s explanation, his head bounced between shock, depression, and even anger.

Phillip was _dead_ ? How could that be? It couldn’t be the same Phillip who’d worked against his judgement and partnered with him, the same Phillip who stepped in as ringmaster when P.T. was foolish enough to leave, the same Phillip who was full of ideas and light was _dead_?

“Are you sure it’s Phillip Carlyle?” P.T. asked. Rose nodded apologetically “Yes, Anne Wheeler was by his side the whole time.” she said.

Anne, oh _Anne_ . P.T. couldn’t even _begin_ to imagine the kind of pain she must feel. Even imagining Charity no longer being with him created a knot in his stomach. He knew now he _had_ to go help her.

P.T. and Rose went off to head back to the hospital. His mind awash with thoughts, how to tell the other members of the circus, oh god, what to even do about the circus. There was too much to think about.

Soon enough they’d arrived at the hospital, P.T. braced himself as they entered the building, walked up the stairs, and finally stepped into the room.

Anne was still draped across the bed, over Phillip, she’d requested as much time as possible to say goodbye, her shoulders heaved with tears. Rose left P.T. alone with Anne, she went to go meet back up with Dr.Moorse, or perhaps Nurse Irene.

P.T. walked over to the bed. As much as he tried to prepare himself to see Phillip, it still wasn’t anything he expected, it almost looks like he was simply asleep, oh how he wished that were still the case. P.T. wanted to remember Phillip as the bright young man he knew, but after seeing him laid lifelessly in the hospital bed, it was hard to shake.

He crouched next Anne, gently resting his hand on her back “Hey, it’s me.” he said softly “I know you’re in pain, more than I can imagine, I’m not gonna try and stop you, but I thought you’d like to see a familiar face.” he said rubbing her back comfortingly.

Anne continued to cry, and P.T. couldn’t blame her, they’d only just started sharing their lives with each other, and for it to be cut off so soon. It was tragedy.

P.T. didn;t know how to help her, and frankly he didn’t even know if she could be helped. There wasn’t much to say. At least he was there for her, maybe that was what she needed for a while.

Suddenly it occurred to him to get a hold of W.D, he could know how to help Anne, and perhaps Lettie too, maybe it could be of use to bring in another woman. P.T. slowly stood up and left the room to find Nurse Rose again, he discovered her straightening things out in another room, still in her street clothes “I know I can’t exactly give you orders and I don’t expect you to take them but could you find some more people for me?”

Rose set down the blanket she was folding “No it’s alright, it be good for me to be of use.”

* * *

 

“He’d dead?” Lettie gasped, Thankfully Rose was able to locate both W.D Wheeler and Lettie Lutz at the same place, Rose relaid the story of Mr.Carlyle’s passing back to the pair, it was beginning to feel like second nature by now “I’ve contacted Mr.Barnum but he has no idea what to do for Anne, she’s distraught.”

W.D looked to the ground “I knew she loved him but I had no idea how badly she had it for him.” he said quietly. Lettie sighed “That poor girl, we have to help her.” she said turning to W.D, he nodded.

Another trip back to the hospital and up the stairs and into the room. Seeing Anne slumped over Phillip’s body was like a knife to W.D’s heart, he was used to seeing the daring and courageous Anne he knew, even when they were kids she had always been outgoing and strong. The only other time he’d seen her so upset was when their parents passed away.

Next to a weeping Anne was P.T., mourning over his friend and business partner, W.D went to talk to him while Lettie stayed to talk to Rose.

W.D crouched on the other side of Anne, he placed his hand on her back “Hey Nan.” he said sweetly, Anne cried silently, by now she was out of tears, but not out of sorrow and misery, she had plenty of that “I know nothing I can say will make you feel better. I know, trust me I know, better than most.” he said “But I’m here for you, like always.” he said.

Lettie walked over the the group gathered at the bed. It was an intense sight, and it wasn’t just Phillip that was bringing emotions up. In complete silence, everyone sat around Phillip, sharing this moment in grief together.  


Nurse Rose seemed to disappear for a while, everyone assumed that she’d left to do some real work. Lettie also left shortly after seeing Phillip, she didn’t say much before she went.

That left P.T., Anne, and W.D. Still nobody seemed to know what to say.

At last it was Anne who broke the silence “H-He’s gone.” she choked. W.D rubbed her back softly “How can he be gone?” Anne said tearfully squeezing his hand, he was cold, he was one of the only men she ever loved, and he was cold. She began to wonder why so many people she loved went cold “I love you.” she whispered into his hand.

Just then the quiet room brust into tension as an older couple stormed into the room “Get away from our son!” an older woman yelled, The Carlyle’s had arrived. P.T. shot up to deal with them before they got to Anne “There’s no need to be angry.” he said trying to diffuse the situation “Don’t you start, our son died running into _your_ building.” Mr.Carlyle spat “If it wasn’t for you getting our son involved in your insane band of freaks he would still be here!”

P.T. sighed, that was something he had already been thinking himself “But now is not the time to place blame.” he looked over his shoulder “Like it or not, Anne loved your son, and he loved her back, I know that, he told me, and right now she’s in unimaginable pain. You _have_ to give her some space.” he said trying to buy more time before The Carlyle’s put out more threats.

Mrs.Carlyle rolled her eyes “Don’t get me started on that harlot, she had her hands in this as well. I know she’s the reason he went in. I have nothing to say to her. She was nothing but a rebellious tryst Phillip engaged in to get back at us.” she snorted. P.T. tried his best to refrain from lunging at her, how dare she say that? Anne was completely broken and she had the nerve to call her a ‘harlot’

The Carlyle’s pushed past P.T. and over to Phillip’s bed, staring daggers at W.D and Anne. They didn’t say anything, they didn’t need to. Anne stood up slowly with help from W.D. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to Phillip’s lips, whispering something only he could hear. She knew it would enrage The Carlyle’s, but she didn’t care, she didn’t feel, she was numb.

Slowly, she stood up, her fingers slipping away from Phillip’s, her jaw shook as she attempted to keep it shut but as Phillip’s hand dropped limply onto the bed a suppressed cry slipped past her lips, she quickly pressed her face into W.D’s chest, the sound of muffled sobs filled the room as W.D and Anne made their way to the door with P.T. took a moment to observe The Carlyle’s and their lack of sympathy for Anne before starting to follow after W.D and Anne. A sense of misery and grief fell like a blanket over the room as P.T. turned to walk away from Phillip for the last time.

As they walked out the front doors of the Hospital and W.D walked with Anne back to wherever they were staying, a realization hit P.T., Anne had just lost her love, and there was nothing she could do, but P.T. still had a chance with Charity, he couldn’t waste opportunity like that when Anne had no such thing.

P.T. broke into a run, heading to the train station, he had managed to catch it and jump on before it left the station.

P.T. remained hidden in the back as to not draw attention to the ticket master, he couldn’t have anything distract him now as he began to put together an apology in his head.


	2. Chapter Two: Grief

P.T. snuck off the train with the crowd, his feet began to carry him almost without thinking, guided by memory to the house he’d spend so much time in as a child.

He sprinted up the driveway, kicking gravel behind him as he arrived at the front door, careful to steady his heaving breaths as he knocked on the door, as it opened he was greeted by Charity’s Father “I’d like to see my wife.” he said “She’s not here” Charity’s father scowled. P.T. was prepared to respond when a light cheerful voice spoke up instead “She’s at the beach!”

Behind Charity’s father on the stairs stood the two bright girls Caroline and Helen, P.T. smiled, seeing his daughters provided him with the final bit of courage he needed to face Charity, he turned to sprint back down the driveway, his body once more guiding him with memories to the place he often snuck away to with Charity back when they first fell in love.

* * *

 

P.T. walked up behind Charity as she stood facing the ocean, her scarf whipping and dancing in the strong winds.

P.T. gulped “Charity, I made a mistake, I acted selfishly. I tried to get more when really,” he sighed “I had all I ever needed. If you can’t forgive me I understand but please, Charity, I’m sorry.”

Charity continued to look out on the ocean, P.T.’s shoulders fell, he was prepared to turn away to leave when Charity abruptly turned to face him, pressing her lips onto his. P.T. quickly reciprocated the kiss.

Charity pulled back, pressing her forehead to his “I forgive you.” she whispered as she kissed him again.

As they walked back to the house, P.T. informed her about Phillip’s passing. Charity didn’t know him well, but since he and P.T. worked together, and he was always happy to play with the girls, she had come to known him some, it still came as a shock that the recently twenty-three-year-old’s heart had stopped during the night. Her heart definitely went out to Anne.

They also discussed, moving back to the house, although P.T. had insisted he only needed her, Charity told him she didn’t want him to give on anything, and as she said, she enjoyed the risk. All it took was selling a few things here and there and Charity always was always somewhat good at business. Soon enough they were able to rent back the house. Planning on buying it back as soon as they could.

 

P.T. approached Charity in the bedroom as she put away a few items of clothing “Charity?” she folded another skirt “Yes Phin?” she asked. P.T. walked toward her “I was just wondering if Anne and W.D could maybe stay with us for a bit? I’ve talked to W.D and he said they don’t really have anywhere to stay and it’s hard for them to find work and-” Charity cut him off, placing her hand on her chest “Of course, I would love to help them anyway I could, I know how it feels to lose someone so close.” she said pushing away memories of her mother’s passing.

P.T. leaned in for a quick kiss “Thank you.” he said. Charity smiled “Besides, we put so much work into getting this house back, we might as well put it to use.” she said.  


* * *

 

W.D accepted P.T.’s offer, although he was going to be working most of the daytime, it would be good for Anne to have people she knew instead of sitting alone in the shelters they alternated between.

Caroline and Helen normally always enjoyed to see Anne, she was always happy to see them too, sometimes she would teach them things like hair braiding or bracelet making, or if it was okay with their parents, cartwheels and backbends, but today as they watched their mother guide her to the spare room down the hallway they noticed Anne seemed like she just wanted to disappear.

After their father had shown W.D where he could sleep P.T. walked over to where the girls sat on the stairs, he sat down next to them “Girls, I know Anne probably seems, different.” he said “And she is, she’s lost someone, someone she loved.” P.T. realized that he needed to be more direct, after all the girls had been there to see Phillip run into the fire “Who did she lose?” Caroline asked “Phillip, he died.” P.T. responded sort of plainly, maybe a bit _too_ direct.

Helen tilted her head as she thought, in a similar fashion to Anne, Phillip was always exciting to be around, he would pick them up or carry them on his back, sometimes even him and Anne would play with them together. She wasn’t sure if she felt more sad or confused. P.T. could see the girls emotions start to display on their faces “So for now, give Anne some space, but your mother and I are here if you have any questions.”

The girls nodded “Okay.” they said almost in unison. P.T. gave a quick nod, as he stood he quickly kissed each of their foreheads before heading back down the hallway to meet up with Charity.

“Alright, W.D headed out to work. I talked to the girls a little bit, I probably could’ve done better.” he said with a nervous chuckle. Charity touched his shoulder softly “I can talk to them again later.” she said “Anne just wants to be alone right now.” she looked over her shoulder at the closed door “We’re just going to have to give it, the only way this is going to get any better is time.” P.T. nodded “Understood.” he nodded

* * *

 

Charity opened her eyes sharply to a dark room, somewhere in the house she could hear someone crying. Despite having older children, her motherly instincts were always to aid a crying child. She carefully lifted the blanket from her body, moving slowly from the bed as to not wake Phin, slipping out of the room.

She managed to use the faint light from the moon to locate candle and a matchbook. She struck the match against the edge of the box and held it to the wick of the candle, then blowing out the match.

Charity crept down the hall to the girls room, slowly cracking the door, both Helen and Caroline where asleep, but the faint sound of cries still continued through the house. Charity turned to head back down the hall and down the large staircase.

The sound of tears became more prominent as she crept down the hallway. It was now clear, that it was coming from Anne’s room.

Charity pushed the door open, her heart continued to break for Anne, she was seated on the center of the bed, her hands clutching her chest, tears running freely down her face. Anne’s head shot up as suddenly noticed the light at the doorway.

She quickly wiped her tears with her hands “I’m sorry, did I wake you?’ she said through a sob. Charity shook her head as she moved towards Anne “Oh no, no. It’s alright.” she lied as she set the candle down on the side table, before Anne may have asked to be alone earlier, but it was clear now, she needed a friend.

Charity sat down next to Anne on the bed, comfortingly rubbing her arm “It’s okay, just cry, let it out.” she said. Anne continued to cry, beginning to lean on Charity, she shapely inhaled “I know it’s silly but, I always imagined marrying him, and-and children. I never wanted that before but with him.” she shook her head as she looked down “With him I wanted it.”

“I could almost see it, a little girl with tawny skin, his eyes and hair and his chin, but my curls.” Anne wept, she balled up the fabric of her nightgown over her stomach as she envisioned the child that could’ve been there.

“And it so childish but I could see it, and all of that’s gone now.” she sobbed “And I think it’s my fault.” Charity pushed a piece of Anne’s hair away from her face “Why do you think that?” she asked.

Anne wiped her tears on the back of her hand “He ran in that fire after _me_ !” she lamented “He went into a fire that I wasn’t even in for me and he _died_ ! If it wasn’t for me he would still be here.” Anne’s eyes drifted to the floor “I wish I _had_ been in that fire. I wish it were me.”

Charity sighed “Oh Anne, don’t say that. You aren’t going to change anything by blaming yourself. I’m sorry to be so blunt but Anne, wishing you were dead is not going to bring Phillip back.” Anne’s eyes filled with tears again “You can sit and wonder if you could have done something different all day, I know I’ve been there, but Anne, _please_ don’t beat yourself up like this.” Charity said. She almost didn’t know how to help her, Anne was struggling, and it was hard to watch. Anne always made it clear that she didn’t need help, she was independent, she was a powerhouse, but right now, she was broken, and hurt, and _raw_. It was likely only W.D had ever seen her this way before.

Tears spilled down Anne’s cheeks “I know you’re right but, I miss him! It hasn’t even been a week yet and I miss him! Every night I go to sleep and I hope that I’ll wake up and he’ll still be here, but he’s not!” she cried putting her head into her hands “I-I want him back…”

Charity pulled her closer, perhaps she just needed to be held, Anne’s head fell limp against Charity’s chest “it’s okay, I feel your pain, you don’t need to hold back.” she whispered as she softly ran her hand over Anne’s head.

Anne continued to cry for a while, and Charity just held her, she began to remember the death of her mother, that was all she wanted when she passed, someone to hold her and someone to listen, but she never really got that, she felt that providing that for Anne was the least she could do.

Slowly Anne stopped crying, she had nothing left, almost like she had no tears left to spill, her breathing was so shaky Charity could feel her quiver against her chest. Anne’s eyes began to fight against the tiredness that was starting to take over her. Charity knew that it would be useless to tell her to sleep, she could recall how hard it is to sleep when she’d been in her position, being unable to fall asleep to wake up to a world without them, but soon enough Anne’s body would win the battle over her mind and allow her to sleep.

Soon enough it happened, Anne’s tense body fell limp in Charity’s arms, she slowly laid her back toward the middle of the bed, pulling the blanket back over her and silently taking the candle and leaving the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm aware that P.T.'s apology to Charity isn't at all like the movie but 1. I can't remember it and 2. It is an AU after all. We play by MY rules, lol.


	3. Chapter Three: Booze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose completes a task for a friend and W.D. finds Anne as she attempts to find comfort in an unorthodox methods.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing? And you’ll be quick?” Nurse Irene asked Rose in a hushed tone as they stood in the empty stairwell. Nurse Rose nodded “Yes, I’ve got it all planned out in my head.” she could see the doubt in Irene’s eyes, Rose gave her hand a squeeze “I  _ have  _ to do this, you saw her, she needs this.” she said.

Irene gave a quick nod “Okay, let’s go.” she said. Rose and Irene exited the stairwell and moved to where the hallways intersected, Irene stood against one of the walls. Rose instructed her to warn her if she saw anyone coming.

Rose crept down the hall, making sure no one was around, if she was caught doing this. She had no idea what kind of trouble she might be in.

She pushed past the door and she was in. A slight chill hit her skin from both the temperature of the room and the ambiance. She pulled all the strength she had and moved toward the table where Phillip laid, his parents had already started funeral plans and had requested Phillip be prepared for burial. Rose reached into the apron of her dress and pulled out a small set of sewing scissors and a thin white ribbon.

Very gingerly she tipped his head to the side, she had to do this were no one would be able to see,  _ no one  _ could know that this ever happened. She parted his hair just slightly and tied the ribbon around a small section of his hair securely. She picked up the sewing scissors, checked over her shoulder, and cut above the ribbon. Rose tucked the scissors back into the apron of her dress and pulled out a small handkerchief. She tucked the lock of hair into the cloth and back into her pocket. Using her hand she smoothed his hair back out, sighing in relief that the cut was noticeable.

Rose double checked that everything was the same as it was when she came in and she ducked back out of the room.

Irene briskly walked up to her “It’s done, I did it, it went perfect, don’t worry.” Rose replied before she could speak. Irene gave a hint of a smile “Okay. Now get out of here before anyone sees you, you aren’t even working today.” she said starting to usher her towards the door

 

* * *

 

Dinner was in around an hour. A bit early but, Charity had finished setting the table already, two extra plates were left at the end of the table, so far W.D. and Anne had stayed with them for two days, but they had yet to eat dinner with them. Instead a member of staff would bring them dinner, sometimes even Charity herself would bring dinner to Anne and coax her into eating, W.D on the other hand just wasn’t quite comfortable yet, he almost felt like he was imposing a bit. Charity understood completely but she thought it would be worth a shot to ask them if they’d like to eat with the rest of them tonight.

Charity was about to head down the hallway to speak to them when she nearly bumped into W.D as he entered the house, returning from work “Ah, sorry about that.” he apologized as he brought himself to a halt “Don’t worry, I was just looking for you actually.” Charity responded “I thought I’d ask if you and Anne might like to join us for dinner tonight? I know you weren’t quiet comfortable before and of course you don’t have to but, It’s rather lonely eating alone.” 

W.D nodded as she spoke “That sounds nice, I can go talk to Anne, I’m heading that way anyways so I could save you the trip.” he said. Charity smiled “Alright, if it’s no trouble. Just let me know.” she said. W.D. gave her a nod “Sure thing.”

After he had finished changing out of his work clothes, W.D. headed back into the hallway, he knocked gently “Hey Nan.” he called softly as he entered the room, surprisingly, Anne was not in the bed or seated at the window bench. She wasn’t in the room at all.

He turned on his heels and headed back out to the hall, a slight panic in his heart as he started looking for her. He looked through the sunroom, the dining room, he’d even gone upstairs to ask the girls if they’d seen her, sand sadly they hadn’t. 

W.D. was about ready to enlist Charity or P.T.’s help when he recalled he had forgotten look in the parlor, he quickly made his way there.

As he looked around his chest sunk as he realized she wasn’t there either, until he noticed the chairs under the table were slightly displaced.

He walked towards it and to his shock he realized he could see a pair of legs on the floor, he crouched down next to the table and looked under it.

Anne leaned against a leg of the table, a bottle of whiskey in her hand, as well as whiskey dripping down the front of her nightgown, he was in such a state of shock all he could manage to do was force out a sentence “Annie!  _ What  _ are you doing?!” he exclaimed as she took another gulp of liquor.

“Y’know, ah’never understood why Phillip liked this stuff, but now, I gettet.” she slurred. Anne may have been strong physically, but when it came to drinking, she was a lightweight if there ever was one, and judging by what was left in the bottle, she was  _ way _ past her usual threshold.

W.D. reached for the bottle but Anne pulled it away from his reach and to her lips again “Anne, give me the bottle.” he demanded “Noo!” Anne protested like a child being asked to come into the house for bed. 

He sighed, most of the time he’d seen Anne drunk, he was right there with her. It was a rare occurrence that Anne would get drunk alone.

Speaking of drunks, he knew that was another thing Phillip was somewhat prone to doing when he was depressed or angry, he’d heard a story or two from Lettie or Anne about him, and surely that was just the tip of the iceberg, but maybe Anne was trying to see if there was something to it, or perhaps to see if she could feel closer to him this way.

W.D. snapped out of his thoughts and watched as Anne took another drink of whiskey, he eyed the level of liquid left in the bottle, it was just past halfway, Anne had been drinking for a while. He had to get her to stop soon.

“Anne,  _ come on _ .” he pleaded “Pfft, why? S’not like I have anything t’do.” she slurred “Circus is gone, Phillip’s is gone. I got nothing left.” 

W.D.’s shoulders fell, it hurt to see Anne like this, seeing how little she felt she had to live for. He slid further under the table “Come on, yes you do. You know P.T. isn’t going to give up that easy. The circus is gone,  _ for now _ . Besides, you have me Annie, I need you Annie, you’re all I have left. Please, if anything, you have  _ me _ .” 

Anne shrugged weakly “Maybe.” her head rolled limply along against the leg of the table.

That cut him deep, he knew it was probably just the alcohol talking, but hearing her only respond with a ‘maybe’ when he told her how he needed her, it was one of his fears, Anne not needing him anymore, not wanting him, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him from talking to her, she was hi little sister, it was his job to protect her, even from herself. He crawled just slightly forward, his body still only about half-way under the table, not that he expected it to, his six foot stature wasn’t something to be easily contained by a small sitting table. 

“Annie, I know you’re hurt, and damaged, but this isn’t you! Talk to me, why are you doing this?” he asked, almost as if he was begging “Just tell me why, I want to help you.” 

Anne remained quiet. Her fingers tapping along the neck of the bottle “A’first I did it because it reminded me of him, but then I guess I just, thought it  _ miiight  _ help me? Help me, forget?” she said in a questioning tone as if she herself wasn’t sure, tears started to well in her eyes “Help me forget he was gone?” she said choking back tears.

W.D. forced the rest of his body under the table, once he was close enough he grabbed Anne, pushing the bottle of whiskey away. He pulled Anne into a hug, her head falling against his chest as tears slipped down her face. 

Memories of him and Anne in almost this exact position just a bit over ten years ago came back to him, the death of their parents had hit them both so hard but W.D. held back a lot. He always thought that Anne had already lost enough, she needed to have something consistent. So many nights were spent with him comforting Anne, saving his own grief for once she fell asleep. 

“Let’s get you out from under this table.” he said quietly. He started to maneuver Anne and the chairs around them until he was able to help her from under the table. 

W.D. slowly lifted Anne off her feet and into his arms and walked out of the parlor. Another memory came back to the front of his mind, although they hadn’t picked up the trapeze until they were a bit older, but they had always enjoyed the heights.

One day while swinging from the branches of a tree, Anne had fallen, pretty badly as well, landing awkwardly on her wrist and breaking it actually. W.D. quickly came down after her. He wiped her tears and lifted her up despite not being much bigger at the time, and he carried her a few blocks back home.

That was what W.D. wanted to do for Anne, her strong big brother who carried her when she fell, to be there when she needed him. 

After they made it to her room deposited her down on the bed, staying with her quite a while until her tears eventually slowed to a stop “Do you need anything?” he asked. Anne shook her head slowly. W.D. reached to the foot of the bed and pulled a blanket over Anne “I’ll be right back.” he said, he did tell Charity he’d let her know. Anne squeezed his hand “Promise?”

He nodded, squeezing her hand back “I promise. I’ll be quick.” he said “I’ll be here for you, like always.”


	4. Chapter Four: Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grief comes in many forms.

Papers. Numbers. Ideas. All splayed across the table, it was beginning to lose meaning. P.T. ran a hand through his hair. Desperate for inspiration, there had to be _some_ way to save the circus, it was his responsibility, he owed it to those people, he gave them a family and he abandoned them, like a _fool_. A damn fool.

His tired eyes traveled across the papers on his desk, it was all starting to blur together. It felt like what some would call a lost cause, but he would not give up that easy, his eyes moved to the window, the bare limbs of the trees shaking in the cold winter winds. It had snowed earlier on in the month but not much recently, leaving the land looking just, _dead_.

_Dead_. P.T. was brought back to the reason they were in this mess, the fire, that horrible fire, the fire that killed Phillip.

He stood slowly from his desk and moved to the window, staring emptily at the barren land that seemed to stretch on forever. The thoughts of business slowly faded to the back of his mind, memories of Phillip began to surface. P.T. wanted to remember him as the bright young man he was but the image of his lifeless body was persistent.

P.T. had been putting off confronting his grief, pushing himself into his work to avoid it. Maybe he didn’t want to believe it. He felt like he couldn’t. It still hadn’t quite settled in that Phillip was dead.

He rolled his shoulder in an attempt to relax them and turned to walk out of his office, maybe a change of scenery would help.

For some reason the house felt extra empty as he walked down the large staircase in the foyer, even if he knew for a fact that the girls and several members of staff were home. P.T. wondered if maybe it was him that was empty.

Somehow he found himself in the parlor. He considered getting a drink of whiskey but was determined not to get drunk, as well as feeling it reminded him a bit too much of a certain day with a certain someone.

Instead he took a seat in one of the chairs. He stared sort of blankly, just gazing on at whatever was in front of him. At this point any number of things could have been in front of him, he just needed to think.

It was about to be a week since Phillip had died and somehow it felt like it happened yesterday, but it felt like Phillip had been gone a lifetime, but he was just here? All of it felt so confusing.

It felt like it didn’t make sense, like it was illogical. He was just here a week ago, just a _week ago_ , he was only twenty-three, he was already making a name for himself, he was creative, he stepped up when P.T. ran off, he was brave, he took a chance on a group of outcasts, his heart was open, he was always playful with Caroline and Helen, he made the performers feel heard, he was just settling into where he belonged, and he was just, gone.

That spirit, that light, that _soul,_ it was just extinguished before their eyes.

If he hadn’t left with Jenny Lind would the fire still have occurred? Would Phillip have still been there if he didn’t have to be the ringmaster? Would he be alive if P.T. hadn’t acted so selfishly?

Suddenly that drink of whiskey didn’t sound so bad anymore.

 

* * *

 

“Are you sure you’ll be alright being here alone for a few hours?” Charity asked, P.T. nodded “Yes it’s fine, I’ll probably just be working as always.” he said with a small smile.

He’d been alone at home before of course, but that wasn’t what Charity was worried about, what she really meant was ‘Are you okay being here alone _with Anne_ for a few hours?’

Usually W.D. or Charity were around for Anne, if W.D. was away at work then Charity would be home and if Charity happened to be out of the house W.D. would make sure to be home for his sister, one of them was always there should she need them, but today a certain old friend who wanted to meet up with Charity and the girls was only in town for a few days and was leaving tomorrow, W.D. had a shift at work that he just couldn’t get out of, so that left P.T. and Anne together in the house.

However it didn’t bother him at all, he’d known Anne long enough by now. He would be ready if she needed him.

P.T. quickly kissed Charity “You should probably get going, you don’t want to keep her waiting.” he said. Charity smiled “I’ll see you later.” she said turning to walk after the girls

After she’d left and the door was closed P.T. headed back up to his office, as overwhelmed as he got spending every waking hour on work what he’d realized from taking a break the other day was that it was better to be tired from work than to sit around and ponder ‘what if? At least’ If he was working at least he could turn his grief into something productive.

 

* * *

 

P.T. was alerted another hour had ticked by as the clock rung out. It served as a reminder that he still hadn’t found any good solution, it also reminded him that it’d presumably be a good idea to get up for a bit after sitting at his desk for so long.

During his little stroll around the house he’d grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and was prepared to head back up to the office when he heard it.

The sound of someone hyperventilating, given that there was no one around this part of the house right now, it had to be Anne. P.T. set his glass on the steps and turned back down the hallway and arrived at her door “Anne?” he asked as he knocked briefly before pushing the door open.

Anne stood between the window bench and the bed, her arm leaning on the bedpost as she tried to catch her breath. The look in her eyes was utterly helpless.

Feeling pity and slight guilt for her, P.T. quickly entered the room and walked around the bed to get closer “Are you alright?” he asked putting a hand on her back.

Anne shook his hand off her back. Suddenly her hand came forward, hitting P.T. squarely in the chest and pushing him back “Get away from me!”

P.T. stumbled backward slightly as a result of the shove, confused as that seemed very out of character for Anne, she’d never shied away from confrontation but something like that was almost unheard of from her. He watched as she ran her hands through her hair, her jaw now clenched tightly, those helpless eyes briefly showing a flash of rage. He started to move towards her again “Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked.

 

“You’ve done enough!” Anne hissed, signaling with her hand for him to stop as she sat down onto the bed.

She rested her hand on her chest as she tried to steady her breathing, her rapid breath became slower, but still shaky.

P.T. noticed the tears streaming down her face “I’m sorry, I don’t understand?” he said.

“No! You don’t! You don’t understand!” She snapped “You don’t understand how everyday without him is _torture_ ! I feel like I’m gonna be sick when I think of having to face another day _without_ him!” Anne sobbed.

When he died he took a part of me with him!” she clutched her hand over her heart “He’s gone because of you!” she hissed through her teeth as she tightened her jaw again “If you hadn’t run off on that insane tour Phillip would still be here!”

P.T.’s breath caught in his throat, he barely knew how to feel let know what to say, but a growing part of him felt, was that she was right. In one way or another, his actions contributed to Phillip’s death, that was something he had to accept, something he had to live with, Anne had every right to be upset with him “I’m sorry, I just, I heard you from the hall and I thought I could help.” he said quietly, his body starting to freeze to the spot.

“I don’t need your help!” Anne said angrily reaching for the nightstand, looking for something to make him leave, her hand hovered over a book on the small table, it was a copy of _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_.

Phillip had lent it to her, she caught him reading it one night and after the show he gave it to her. As she read it she noticed how Phillip had liked to write in the margins of the pages, notes on the story, the characters, even just general comments. Some of it was funny or insightful, charming even. One day she couldn’t find it, she was so worried Phillip would be mad at her for losing it.

The fire happened before she could tell him, while Anne was at the hospital with Phillip, W.D. had brought it to her, Anne couldn’t believe it made it out of the fire, he said the firefighters had managed to pull a chest out of the rubble and get it open, W.D. recognized the book from seeing Anne read it. The fact that it survived the fire made Anne think it was a sign they were meant to be, but clearly it was all just a coincidence.

Her hand shifted away from the book, she grabbed a decorative pillow from behind her and let it fly toward P.T. He managed to miss it narrowly, unsure of what to say, unsure if he should say anything at all, the silence hung awkwardly in the air “Just leave…. Leave me alone….” Anne whimpered.

P.T. left the room without another look, he closed the door behind him and quickly ran up the stairs back to his office.

  
Once inside he shut the door and leaned against it, pressing his shoulders into the wood. He’d tried so hard to be strong, consistent, buried in his work, telling himself he didn’t want to sit idly at a time like this. He closed his eyes tightly, a tear slipped down his face, perhaps it was less of wanting to avoid grief, and more of wanted to avoid _guilt_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHH! I'm so sorry for my extended leave! I promise this story is still active! I was planning on taking a few days off because my brain was just so like greatest showman-ed out, lol. It was supposed to be like three for four days but then I got a cold that completely zapped my creativity as well. I also have this issue with having ideas for plots but not knowing how to execute them so there's that too. Sorry to make excuses! I'm not super proud of this chapter but I really wanted to get something out before people started to lose interest. Hopefully as I kick this cold my inspiration will come back <3


	5. Chapter Five: Blame

Charity entered the house and sent the girls upstairs to get ready for bed. She had spent longer than she had expected as the sun was now beginning to set. She was hoping that all had been well between Anne and P.T. while she was away.

She started to walk up the stairs but ended up knocking over a glass, water trickled down the steps. Charity pulled a cloth handkerchief from her pocket and started to wipe it up. She picked up the glass as well so it wouldn’t break, noting in her mind to clean the rest up later she continued up the stairs.

Once she arrived at the door to the office, she’d noticed it was closed, she lightly knocked against the wood, after a few moments of silence she pushed it open, P.T. wasn’t at the desk like usual.

He had pulled the chair from the desk across the room to the window, he was seated staring out the window.

Charity walked across the room to her husband “Phin? You alright?” she asked gently running her hands down his shoulders.

P.T. remained silent.

Charity ran her hands down his chest “Come on, talk to me.” she whispered as she kissed his temple, sensing that he was hiding something.

Still, he stared blankly out the window, Charity’s fingers traced a button on his shirt silently, she rested her chin on the top of his head, her arms linked together, embracing him from behind “Okay, if you’d like to stay quiet, that’s fine,” she kissed the top of his head “But I’ll still be here.”

P.T. could feel the rhythm of Charity breathing against him, it reassured him somehow, but only partly. He sighed, reaching up to touch Charity’s hand “Anne snapped at me today.”

He softly ran his fingers up her arm as he continued to stare out the window “I heard her in the hallway and I went in to try and help her, but she snapped at me.” P.T. swallowed “And I deserved it. I deserved every second of it. She said I killed him, and she’s right.”

Charity straightened her spine, her hands slipped up to his shoulders “What? Why would you think that?” she asked. P.T. pulled his hand away “If I hadn’t been so unreasonable and run off with Jenny, he wouldn’t have been there. If I hadn’t abandoned them he wouldn’t have had to step in to replace me and he wouldn’t have been there.” he said rounding his shoulders.

“You don’t know that, Phillip still could’ve been there that night.” Charity said. P.T. stood up forcefully, the chair scraping against the floor as he pushed it away “But who brought him to the circus in the first place?” he asked rhetorically “Who convinced him to leave the only life he had ever known to take a chance on someone like me?”

Charity moved around the chair “Phin you shouldn’t blame yourself for this, you never could have foreseen this coming. It’s not your fault.” she said “You _did not_ kill him.”

P.T. took a moment to stare out the window again “Charity please don’t deny my involvement in this.” he said without shifting his eyes from the panes of glass.

“I may not have stopped his heart.” He said turning around “But his blood is on my hands.”

Charity’s heart sank, slowly she was starting to understand just how _deeply_ he blamed himself for Phillip’s death.

“How am I supposed to look at Anne and know that my actions contributed to the reason the man she loves is no longer with her?” P.T. confessed “How am I supposed to live like that?”

P.T. anxiously ran his hand through his hair. Charity stepped over to him, placing her hand on his shoulder. She ran her hand down his arm, she intertwined her fingers with his giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

She tried to think of something to say that could help him, but she struggled to find the right words.

Silence hung awkwardly in the air as P.T. turned to face the window again “I don’t want to talk anymore…” he said quietly, his voice breaking slightly.

He pulled away from Charity. A few tears had already slipped down his face but hopefully she wouldn’t know that.

Charity gave a small nod, agreeing that this may not be something so easily solved in one conversation “Okay.” she replied quietly.

 

* * *

 

Almost as soon as W.D. walked in the house Charity filled him in with the info she had on Anne and P.T.’s fight.

As tired as he was from work, if Anne needed him, he would be there for her.

Once he had thanked Charity for updating him, he made his way over to see Anne.

The door was already slightly cracked open, he gave it a light tap as he opened it fully and shut it behind him.

Anne was sitting on the bed reading a book. It was nice to see her doing something besides just sitting alone in silence.

W.D. made his way over to Anne, taking a seat next to her “Hey Nan.” he greeted softly. He looked over the book she was reading, yet again it was that copy of _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_ that she had gotten from Phillip, this had to be at least the third time she read it, W.D. wondered if she was even reading the words written by Shakespeare or just the notes Phillip had left in it.

His eyes traced up to Anne’s “You alright?” he asked after noticing how blank her eyes seemed to be. Anne closed the book as she turned to W.D. “Yes, I’m fine, is something wrong?”

“No, I just heard you had sort of a… rough day.” he said shaking his head. Anne sighed “It was-” her voice seemed to drop out- “Fine.” she finished.

W.D. had seen Anne like this before, that sort of disingenuous ‘I’m okay’, she was always good at acting like everything was fine. They both were, with how their life had been they had to be, but being familiar with the act himself W.D. could easily recognize it.

“Annie.” through the years they had sort of developed a language of their own, some words could become whole questions or sentences with just a change in tone, this was one of those words with one of those tones.

Anne turned to set the book back onto the side table, she whipped her head towards W.D. “Okay! Fine! I’m not fine! How am I supposed to be fine?!” she spilled, her voice was tight, like she was choking back tears, she was just so tired of crying, so tired of feeling this way.

W.D. put his arm around her as she leaned into his chest, her eyes squeezed shut to avoid letting the tears slip out “You don’t have to go through this alone Annie.” he said “Do you want to talk about it?”

Anne didn’t really respond with a yes or no, she just started to speak “I know he’s done so much for us and I appreciate it but I can’t help but blame him for this somehow.” she said “I can’t help but wonder if there a chance that if things were different if he would still be here.”

That was the question, the question everyone inevitably thinks of when someone close to you dies, unfortunately most of the time it can never be answered.

“If P.T. had never left that night could’ve gone differently and he could still be here.” Anne slowly opened her eyes, still very glossy with tears “I’m trying to find an explanation because there _has_ to be some reason why he’s gone but nothing is making sense.”

She couldn’t hold them back anymore, tears began sliding down her face. W.D. brushed her hair from her face “I know.” he said “Nothing makes sense and it’s awful.”

Anne wiped her face with the back of her hand “I should’ve known.” she sighed. W.D. looked down at her in confusion “Known what?” he asked.

“He died, and I was right there. I should’ve known.” she repeated “He died while I was asleep, I was _right there_.”

W.D. squeezed her shoulder “Annie, don’t say that-” she quickly interrupted him “I should have noticed something! I was sleeping! I sat there and I held his hand and he died and I didn’t know!” she said through a cry.

Anne dropped her head into her hands as she started to break down completely. W.D. rubbed her arm “But you were there, if he had to die I’m sure that’s what he would have wanted, to have you there, holding his hand. Even if you had fallen asleep you were there for him.” he said

His words seemed to help slightly, although Anne continued to cry, W.D. was well aware how difficult it could be to stop sometimes, but he had always thought it was best to cry as much as you needed to let it happen, and he would be there until it had run its course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I know I said this chapter was supposed to come sooner but I was on spring vacation and I was under the impression that I would be able to write while I was away, that was not the case and I was pretty much doing things and going places the whole trip but I've returned home now and I know I say this every single time but hopefully I'll be able to write more. Also this thing keeps happening to me where I turn on my computer and open a new tab to start writing and then strong winds suddenly blow me to Netflix, there's this little show called Grey's Anatomy? You probably haven't heard of it it's pretty short. 
> 
> I also think I need to make less notes on my chapters, I feel like I add one every time!


	6. Chapter Six: Overstepped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose meets the Carlyles while at work

The Hospital was a bit understaffed on this particular day, thankfully it was a bit of a slower day.

Rose had been asked to do something a bit different that her usual nursing duties. The Carlyles were due to come by to pick up Phillip, or rather his body.

They were supposed to come by much earlier but there was something about them having issues with something about the funeral service, apparently it was all very specific. Rose couldn’t really blame them, as distant and cold as they seemed they  _ were _ planning a funeral for their only child, but by now Phillip had died ten days ago.

She’d met them a little bit when they’d come to the hospital to discuss the course of action with Phillip’s body. They definitely lived up to what she’d heard about them.  

Rose waited at the back of the hospital, running over the events in her head, all that was supposed to happen was the Carlyles would arrive, sign something, take the coffin, and leave. That was it, simple enough.

She waited by the window for them to appear, she just wanted to get back to work, of course she wanted to do as she was instructed but she preferred to help out with those in the hospital that were still,  _ alive _ , but she knew how important this was.

Rose had only been working at the hospital for a few months now. While she was still in nursing school, before she graduated her friends took her to the circus a few times, it was magic. The fire was devastating, it must have been even worse for those who actually worked with the circus. If she could do something to help at this time she would, even if it was just helping a body get buried.

Her thoughts were interrupted as she watched a carriage pull up and stop. The coachman stepped down to open the doors. As she expected the older couple that stepped out were Phillip’s parents.

Rose walked out the back door of the hospital to greet them “Mr. and Mrs. Carlyle, Hello. I’m very sorry for your loss.” she said

The Carlyles seemed very disinterested, like they couldn’t wait to leave. Rose kept her irritation in check and attributed that to grief “Thank you, let’s just get this done shall we?” Mr.Carlyle acknowledged “Of course.” Rose said with a nod.

She handed him the paper, she wasn’t one hundred percent sure what it said, she’d read it over a few times but it really wasn’t her area of experience. It was something along the lines of ‘I am the next of kin of this body, I know what I’m doing with it, I will be respectful.’ something of that sort.

Mr.Carlyle signed it quickly and handed it back to Rose “Thank you. One moment.” she said turning to head back inside.

 

* * *

 

After Rose had the paper filed off were it was supposed to be and Rose had some of the staff move the coffin onto the carriage. Everything was fine. Everything was almost done.

“Once again I’m very sorry for your loss.” Rose said clasping her hands. That look of disinterest still present with Mr. and Mrs. Carlyle as the coachman took his place and they prepared to leave. 

Mrs.Carlyle moved to reenter the carriage but suddenly her foot slipped off of the step. Her hand slid backwards with her and grazed the sharp latch of the door. 

She stepped backwards and away from the carriage to assess the damage, the latch had carved a wound toward the edge of palm.

Rose’s nursing reflexes kicked in and she quickly walked over “Oh that looks deep, let help you with that.” she insisted taking her hand and looking at the wound.

Mrs.Carlyle shook her head “No, it’s fine.” she said firmly “It’s only a cut.”

“Ma’am please, I’m a nurse, there’s a whole hospital a few feet away from us, it  _ is  _ only a cut but I would hate for it to get infected, it’ll take a few minutes to fix.” Rose said 

Mrs.Carlyle looked back at her husband “She’s right, let her help you.” he said. Mrs.Carlyle looked back at Rose “Fine.” she conceded

 

* * *

 

Rose led her inside and off to a seat in a small room, she grabbed a suture kit from a drawer and set to work.

They sat in silence as Rose cleaned off the wound and started to put in the stitches. 

Never before had Rose let her personal opinions affect her relationship with patients but she found it getting harder and harder to hold her tongue.

As she started to tie off the stitches, against her better judgement, she said something “I don’t mean to overstep but I know you didn’t exactly approve of your son working with circus, but Barnum and the others really did care for your son, and he cared about them too.” she said 

Mrs.Carlyle remained quiet but her expression was clear that she was exactly listening, or at least she was trying not to. Rose grabbed a roll of bandages “It’s such a shame a lot of them don’t have anything left now. That fire was such a tragedy.” she sighed shaking her head “I know how tragic it was, it killed my son.” Mrs.Carlyle hissed.

Rose bit her tongue “Right, I’m so sorry.” she said securing the bandage. Mrs.Carlyle quickly withdrew her hand “I don’t know what you’re trying to imply but if you’re trying to make me feel sorry for those  _ freaks  _ it’s not going to work and it is  _ very _ inappropriate for the workplace.” she said.

Rose nodded “Of course, of course. I’m very sorry.” she apologized as Mrs.Carlyle left angrily.

The door slammed shut behind her. Rose exhaled sharply, cursing herself out under her breath as she started to clean up the items left over from the suture kit.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you guys like this! I was a bit afraid to write a more Rose centered chapter as she's an original character but she's gonna come into play a little a bit later on so I wanted to make her less of a stranger, also I wanted to reestablish the amount of time since Phillip's death. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed ^^


	7. Chapter Seven: Locket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lettie and Rose come to see Anne.

 

Charity had just checked on the girls playing in the sunroom, she was about to go look for P.T. when she heard a knock on the door. Seeing as she was the only person downstairs, she headed to open it.

She entered the foyer and pulled the large door open, the late afternoon sun poured into the house, illuminating the two guests standing at the door. Lettie and another smaller girl stood next to her “Oh hello.” Charity greeted with a soft smile “Sorry for dropping by so suddenly, we have something for Anne.” Lettie said.

It was then that Charity noticed the small black jewelry box in Lettie’s hand “Oh, that’s nice. What is it if I may ask?” she said stepping aside to let the two women in and shut the door behind them.

Lettie slowly opened the small box, inside upon a square of cotton was a silver oval-shaped locket. It was beautiful, a sort of engraved pattern decorated the perimeter, in the center of the oval was a small cluster of stars. Carefully Lettie flipped open the locket the left side had words and a date engraved 

_ ‘Phillip Bailey Carlyle _

_ 9 - 3 - 1847 _

_ 12 - 7 - 1872’ _

His full name, birthday, and death date all written in the left side of the locket, the opposite site, held in place by a small piece of glass a small lock of brown hair tied with a white ribbon, creating a small sort of shadowbox.

“It’s a mourning locket.” Lettie explained as she closed the locket and then the box “My friend had one when her little boy passed away.” Charity nodded “That’s so sweet, I think Anne will really appreciate it. Is this-”

“Yes, it’s a lock of his hair. I’m a nurse, I work at the hospital.” interjected the young woman “Oh, sorry, my name is Rose by the way.” she said, embarrassed. Charity gave a small wave of her hand “It’s okay, it’s nice to meet you. I can take you to Anne.” she said turning on her heels.

* * *

 

 

Charity lead them down the hall to Anne’s room, she knocked gently before cracking the door “Anne, you have some guests.” she said slowly pushing the door open.

Anne was seated in the window bench, gazing out the window, her knees pulled into her chest, still dressed in her nightgown. 

Charity entered first walking over to touch Anne’s shoulder, sitting across from her on the bench “Lettie’s here, would you like to see her?” she asked. Anne nodded slowly, dropping her legs to the floor. 

Lettie and Rose entered the room “Hey Anne.” Lettie greeted taking a seat on the edge of the bed, Rose followed after her “We have a little gift for you.” Lettie said, Anne looked over, the light completely missing from her eyes. Lettie held out the box, Anne took it into her hand.

The other three women watched as she slowly pulled the lid from the box and looked upon the small silver necklace “It’s a locket.” Lettie informed. Anne opened the locket with her fingernail. Tears welled in her eyes as she read the words inside. Rose knew from her expression she didn’t need to explain the lock of hair. It was easy to see Anne could recognize it anywhere.

A few tears started to roll down her cheeks. Lettie touched her back comfortingly “I-I love it.” squeaked Anne, quiet as a church mouse. She reached into the box and picked it up by it’s chain “Could you-” Lettie nodded before she could finish “Of course.” she responded.

Anne shifted to put her back to Lettie, holding back her hair with one hand as Lettie stood up to get closer, she undid the clasp and gently placed it around her neck and securing it around her neck, giving her shoulders a soft touch as she removed her hands.

Anne released her hair from her hand, she touched her fingers to the locket, feeling the engraved designs under her fingertips, she turned to face Lettie again “Thank you.” she said, reaching her arms forward. Lettie pulled her into a hug “You’re welcome.” she said “We’re here for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, sorry it's so short but it's a bit lighter. I wanted to address a few things though
> 
> 1\. I know I referred to Phillip as being 23 in earlier chapters but upon watching the movie again recently, he just didn't feel that young to me so I made him 25 instead. I'll go back and edit those other chapters when I can.  
> 2\. Historically, Jenny's tour was in 1850, but in some behind-the-scenes clips, the movie is said to take place in 1870ish.   
> 3\. I'm sorry I'm so slow with the updates, I have ideas it's just that sometimes inspiration is hard to find, also I've been caught up in writing more for my AnnexPhillip drabble collection and let me tell you, it's a lot more fun writing Phillip when he's alive lol, it's also sort of difficult going from random drabbles to a story with chapters one after the other. Life gets in the way as well, but this story is going to continue. If I ever have to put it on hiatus for some reason, I promise I will let you know.


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